Moments of Breathless Delight
by Broadwaykid1832
Summary: A breathless delight in which Enjolras' sister capture everyone's hearts with just the bat of her eyelashes. Les Miserables one shots to be specific.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I do not own Les Mis. I wish I did, but I don't._

* * *

She stood by her brother at all times. A blue dress, hair tied up in a ribbon, a cockade pinned above her breast. She was lovely, soft-spoken, lived for the revolution; never has someone laid eyes on such an enticing fifteen-year-old.

Her name was Elizabeth, which was supposedly was her middle name. No one knew what her first name or last name was, except her elder brother, Enjolras, of course. She never spoke that often, would normally be found perched on Grantaire's lap (much to her brother's displeasure) as she conversed with Courfeyrac and Prouvaire, put in her two sense when it came to talk of rebellion, and smelled sweetly of lilies.

It was the 21st of May. She remembered that day specifically because it was raining, and she had been running late to the evening meeting at the Musain.

Elizabeth sprinted through god's tears barefoot, holding her shoes in her right hand whilst her left held her skirts up so she wouldn't trip. She had been in a small bookstore in the more civilized part of town, which was nowhere near the slums or the Cafe Musain. The time passed by so quickly as she sifted through the thousands upon thousands of books. But she never even had time to buy one when the grandfather clock tolled six times. The meeting had started ten minutes ago.

The cold was biting at her skin, raindrops already having soaked through her blue dress, chilling her as the speed of which the water fell progressing. She could see the warm light the cafe provided, aching to envelop her.

She tripped and stumbled to the door, leaning most of her weight on it in order to get it to open. Upon stepping inside, Elizabeth already heard her brother's voice yelling out in protest and the quiet rumble of voices upstairs.

"Right, we'll plan to build the barricades in between Rue de-Mon Dieu! Elizabeth, ma cherie, what on earth happened to you?!" Combeferre's eyes immediately fell on the petite blonde girl as she reached the top of the stairs, attracting Enjolras' attention as well as he was at her side in an instant.

Elizabeth held her stare with her brother as she felt Combeferre cradle her face in his hands, brushing the wet hair out of her eyes. Enjolras raised an eyebrow at his younger sister, narrowing his eyes. Oh, was she going to get an earful later. Just for being late too! It wasn't her fault it was raining outside, or that she just lost track of time at the bookstore, or wasn't talking about revolution every single moment of the day, like people do.

"Look at you, Elizabeth," Courfeyrac said as Combeferre sat the young girl down at his, Grantaire, and Joly's table. "Have you been spending too much time with Bossuet?"

A round of chuckles provided Elizabeth with a gentle smile, "Perhaps I have, maybe his bad luck has passed on to me." She felt Comberferre's presence leave shortly after, returning to the table where him and Enjolras had been discussing plans before she arrived.

She continued, "I was in the bookstore on Rue Pastourelle and lost track of time. I didn't think it would rain on the way here."

A stray shiver trailed down her spine, making her shudder. Wrapping her arms tight around herself to keep warm, she listened intently to the ongoing conversation between Courfeyrac, Grantaire, and Joly. It wasn't anything important, or nothing concerning the revolution, mostly talk of Marius and his mystery girl.

It went on for an hour. Then an hour and a half.

Almost for two hours, Elizabeth sat in her soaking wet light blue dress, chilled to the bone. She was quiet, too cold to offer her two sense or start a conversation with Courfeyrac, and stayed silent. Grantaire offered her a shot of brandi to warm her up and she took it from his hands gratefully, downing it in one take.

"Oh, look what we have here." He had said, inching his chair closer to Elizabeth. "Want another one sweetheart? Warm your tiny, perfect body right up with a couple more."

She shook her head, damp tendrils sticking to her porcelain cheeks as she shuddered once more. "No thank you. My brother would have both our heads on a silver platter if I were to have another drink, especially if you were the one to offer it to me."

Sending her a sly wink, Grantaire resumed his conversation with Courfeyrac, Elizabeth's silence returning until 8:30; The three men at her table had left ten minutes prior, along with all the other Amis save for Combeferre and Enjolras, who still sat at the table nearest the window quietly talking to one another.

Elizabeth rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin on her fists as she fell on the brink of sleep, eyelids heavy and just about to close her eyes when she felt two hands on her shoulders.

"Jesus, Elizabeth, you're freezing." Enjolras muttered as he shrugged off his coat, wrapping it around his sister's trembling frame. "Come along now, it's time to leave."

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Elizabeth slowly trailed behind her brother, grabbing her shoes off the table and taking a hold of Enjolras' wrist as they went down the staircase.

When the two stepped out into the cool, nighttime air, they walked with purpose down the cobblestone streets to their flat, Elizabeth's feet still bare.

xxx

She sat in only her innocent white corset and underskirts (which fell to a little bit below her knee), still wrapped up tight in Enjolras' coat as she curled up in a chair by the radiator. Her blue dress hung over a kitchen chair with a tiny gathering of water drip-dropping from the hem. A cup of tea was cradled in her hands and provided her with warmth, not enough to of it, but just enough for the numbness of her fingers to clear.

Her elder brother came stomping down the narrow staircase that led down from the second floor, barechested with only a pair of old breeches on for nightwear. He plopped down on the sofa, running his hands down his face as he sprawled out.

"Do you want to give me a good explanation as to why you were late today?" Enjolras spoke, his words muffled by his hands. "I had told you to be there ten minutes in advance."

Elizabeth kept her gaze forward instead of looking at her brother. The moonlight illuminated her soft facial features through the sheer curtains, all signs of rain gone. "Christian, you yourself gave me permission to go _out_ into town this afternoon. It's not my fault it started to rain."

The elder didn't even flinch when she spoke of his first name. "You could've catched your death out there." Enjolras rose up off the couch, kneeling down in front of his sister with a caring glimmer to his eye.

Their similar blue eyes finally met, Elizabeth's lips curling into a darling little smile. "I could've, dear brother, but I didn't."

Enjolras couldn't help but smile, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his sister's temple.

* * *

 _So I basically do a lot of writing for the Maze Runner Fandom, but I'm having major writer's block for my primary story and I needed something to get my mind off it. I will take plot requests. This is just little one shots in the case scenario that Enjolras had a little sister._

 _But feel free to leave requests! I may be inclined to write them ;)_

 _-Broadwaykid1832_


	2. December 24, 1831

December 24, 1831

The Christmas Eve party at the Musain had always been the highlight of the year. There was no discussing plans, they exchanged gifts, drank eggnog (which was normally spiked by Grantaire), a joyous occasion known to all the Amis.

But most of all, it was the competition between Combeferre and Courfeyrac to earn a kiss under the mistletoe from Elizabeth.

This tradition had started at last year's party. Gavroche somehow managed to tug her under the doorframe where the red-berried decoration hung above their heads, earning himself the sweetness of Elizabeth's lips on his for a spare moment. Lucky little bastard, he had bragged about it for months.

As the new year of 1831 began, Combeferre and Courfeyrac grew more and more attached to the blonde, even more than they had before. She matured from the innocent fourteen-year-old who gave Gavroche an innocent little peck a year ago into an educated young woman, stunning and enticing as always. All within a year! They fought over the idea, and now the competition began the second Elizabeth and Enjolras had arrived.

"Ah, ma cherie!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, immediately grabbing Elizabeth's hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. The eggnog was running through his veins already, "How stunning you look tonight!"

Enjolras shook his head at the Center as he passed by, heading towards the front window where Combeferre watched the scene unfold. The Guide narrowed his eyes at his friend, shaking his head as well.

"Courfeyrac, where on earth did you learn to be so charming?" Elizabeth's songbird's voice rang in his ears, cheeks reddening as Courfeyrac pulled her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It's my personality, dear Elizabeth, have you not noticed all these years?" He tipped her chin up with the hook of his finger, big blue eyes staring up at him in wonder and amusement.

Her angel-like laughter was music alongside the chinking of glasses and low rumble of conversation. "Yes, I have, it's hard not to."

The mistletoe was only a spare few inches away, if Courfeyrac could only tug her swiftly with him into the doorway-

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" Gavroche came out of nowhere, latching onto the young girl's arm. He practically pried her away from Courfeyrac's grasp. "Come with me! I want to give you my present now!"

"Oh, mon lapin." She cooed, smiling as she pinched Gavroche's cheek. "I told you you didn't need to get me anything."

She started to drift away from him. Looking towards the front window, Combeferre raised his glass to Courfeyrac, a smug look upon his face as if to say "nice try" while Enjolras, for once, finally had a smile instead of a scowl.

Oh, the game has only begun, dear Combeferre.

xxx

Combeferre knew the second Courfeyrac laid a finger on Elizabeth he could possibly lose their little competition. His friend was quick that way. But Combeferre knew something that would make the blonde beauty just melt, in fact, he'd done it before.

Elizabeth had been hovering over a table littered with maps, pen, and parchment, loose strands of hair falling in front of her face. It had been before anyone had arrived at the Musain, just the two of them in the upstairs room. All alone with no one else.

A little known fact about Combeferre and Elizabeth is that they always play games, as do her and Courfeyrac, it was the way things were. Enjolras knew nothing of it, it slipped right under his nose a few times. Alas, he was buried in his studies and ideas of a republic instead of his precious younger sister. But nethertheless, Combeferre continued to tease, as did Courfeyrac, which was one of the primary reasons they'd invented the competition, they both craved Elizabeth's attention.

He had placed his hands on her waist, his frame towering over her own. Combeferre pressed his index and forefingers into her hips, and Elizabeth completely stalled. After that, he carefully kissed the crook of her neck, almost crumbling after hearing her moan as she fell further back into his embrace.

There were three mistletoe locations throughout the Musain. One attached to the doorway on the first floor (where Courfeyrac had almost snatched her up), second above the street side window on the second floor, and the last being in a private little corner towards the back of the first floor, a place where no one would see.

A perfect mistletoe spot.

The trouble was getting her away from everyone.

But for Combeferre, that was a piece of cake.

She was making light conversation with a random student at a table off to the side, already enchanting the poor man as he stared at her with widened eyes. He left a few moments later to fetch himself a drink of water. Perhaps, Elizabeth's ethereal beauty was too much to comprehend.

Combeferre pounced on her before Courfeyrac spotted the moment of weakness. He circled his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her flush against his body.

"Bonjour, ma cherie." He purred, "Have I told you how beautiful you look this Christmas Eve?"

Elizabeth shook her head in response, humming lowly as Combeferre lightly brushed his lips behind her ear.

"No, you haven't." The words nearly came out as a moan. He let his hands dip farther down her stomach; Courfeyrac must certainly be watching them now.

Turning in his arms, Elizabeth's eyes finally met his, sparkling in the dim candle light. Every inch of her body was touching his. Lord, help him please, Combeferre prayed. The blood was rushing down from his beating heart, breaths short as Elizabeth tempted him with her soft, pink lips, nearing his own second by second.

Who needs mistletoe when she was perfect willing to kiss him at that very moment? Surely, Courfeyrac would be jealous. If Combeferre earned himself the privilege of having Elizabeth's kiss, without mistletoe, it would be Courfeyrac's demise.

"Elizabeth," Combeferre exhaled. "If I were to kiss you, in this moment, would you permit it?"

He watched her lips begin to form the word 'yes', her face just mere inches away from his.

And that's when Courfeyrac called her name, beckoning her to perch on his lap.

The moment had vanished and Combeferre placed a kiss on her forehead before she went over to him. He watched as Courfeyrac tugged her into his embrace, straddling him only to have Grantaire hang a sprig of mistletoe over them.

God damn you, Courfeyrac. Why hadn't Combeferre thought of the idea earlier?

"You know what that means Elizabeth!" The drunk sang.

"Lay one on him Eliza!" Bahorel called, patting Courfeyrac on the shoulder.

Courfeyrac lunged forward to have their lips meet, running his hands down her back until they were cheekily place just above the curve of her ass.

Leaning back against the wall in defeat, Combeferre folded his arms over his chest. Why hadn't he thought of just having Jehan hang mistletoe over him and Elizabeth? Or, kiss her when he had the chance.

Now her and Courfeyrac were doing a tongue dance while everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. Where was Enjolras? He certainly wouldn't tolerate such behavior? Especially if his younger sister was snogging his best friend for all to see. But then, Joly had walked Enjolras home about ten minutes ago. Their fearless leader was drunk after having one single glass of egg nog, what a lightweight.

The night wasn't over yet, Combeferre still had his chance.

xxx

Courfeyrac hadn't left Elizabeth's side for the rest of the night, and the end had come to the annual Christmas Eve party.

Everyone was gone, save for Combeferre, Grantaire, Elizabeth, and a few of the cafe workers.

Elizabeth.

She's still here.

Sitting at the counter and thanking Madame Hucheloup.

The white dress she wore pooled at her feet as she leaned against the counter, rosy lips moving constantly as she conversed. Her silken, blonde hair rippled down her back, falling to just above her hips. Oh, how beautiful she was.

"Pardon me, Madame." Combeferre said, resting his hand on the small of Elizabeth's back. "I'm the one in charge of returning Elizabeth back to her flat."

It was a lie. But Elizabeth, or Madame Hucheloup, didn't need to know that.

"Of course," The elder women straightened her posture. "Make sure she gets home safely."

He felt Elizabeth intertwine their fingers intricately beneath the counter, her being closer to his own.

It started to snow outside.

As the two of them walked, hands still interlocked, snow trickled down onto Elizabeth's golden waves. One even caught on one of her eyelashes. And Combeferre found himself staring again. But this time, his eyes wandered farther down than what was allowed in public. The curve of her hips, swell of her breasts, how dainty Elizabeth's hands were.

"Combeferre," she began, "I have a question for you."

They were all alone on the streets of Paris, the lights in the windows gone, snow falling from the night sky. How perfect it seemed.

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow, "Try me."

Her blue eyes looked up to the sky, "Earlier tonight, you asked for my kiss, but we were interrupted before anything could happen."

They stopped, winter breezes biting at their skin.

As she faced him, she bit down on her lower lip, a sign of nervousness he recognized. "Well, I was just wondering if you…"

The fifteen-year-old in her was showing, pristine and anxious. After all, she was fifteen, nearly ten years younger than Combeferre and Courfeyrac. How young and innocent she was, but that's what made the two of them (Combeferre and Courfeyrac) crave for her.

It was the scent of lilies they breathed, softness of her flaxen hair, and the sweet sound of her voice when she talked. Tonight, they constantly took note of how mature Elizabeth appeared, in her pure white dress with a red ribbon to hold half her hair back. She parroted the looks of a young lady, not the teenager of a wealthy man whom lived in the countryside of France, or the sister of a revolutionary. An entity unto herself is how Enjolras describes his dear younger sister.

Combeferre kissed her before she murmured another word, cradling her jaw and skimming his other hand down her side.

They didn't even need the mistletoe, they hadn't all night long.

* * *

 _Okay, so the ending to this really sucked, in my opinion, but I tried my best._

 _So you probably may have noticed that I want to have Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Elizabeth to be in the same situation as Joly, Bossuet, and Muschetta. You know, the whole "shared girlfriend" scenario. Lemme know your thoughts about it._

 _Also thank you to the reviewer who commented! I wanted an addition of a female figure to the Amis because it must be awfully boring without a girl in their midst. Although there is Eponine and Cosette, they didn't seem too involved with the Amis (then again I've only seen the musical and read a chapter or two of the book), so it appeared to me there was the need to have a girl a tad bit more involved with the Amis. If you ever did want read more of my work, and if you're interested in Maze Runner Trilogy, I do have a few stories written for that fandom. :)_

 _-Broadwaykid1832_


	3. The Barricades Part 1

_June 5, 1832_

Elizabeth felt a kiss bestowed on her forehead as she slept peacefully in her tiny bedroom, humming lightly when Enjolras' hand caressed her cheek gently. The night hadn't been spent adding last minute details and remaining in the Musain until midnight. There was drinking, shouting, loading guns, writing out fliers; Elizabeth still had ink on her fingertips.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac hadn't left her alone all night long. Thoughtful touches and lustful glances, they'd spent most of their time together in a closet on the first floor. With General Lamarque's funeral at eight o'clock sharp the next morning, there would be no time to have a pure moment of bliss, they indulged themselves in each other's embrace while they could.

After all, the barricades were to arise the next day. Such things wouldn't be productive, well, Courfeyrac begged to differ.

Enjolras' brotherly hand left her cheek, smoothing her hair out of her face before his touched vanished completely. It didn't take long for the fall of his footsteps to reach the doorway.

"Dear God," she heard him murmur, "please, all I ever want from you is to keep her safe. Even after I'm gone, keep her safe."

Her crystal blue eyes shot open the second he closed the door. Shoving off the covers, Elizabeth ran to pull the handle only to see it locked from the outside. Damn Enjolras for putting locks on all the doors!

She slammed her fists against the wood, crying out for her brother to come unlock the door.

"Christian, please!" She begged. "Open the door! We were supposed to do this together! Christian!"

The clock on her vanity read a quarter to eight, only fifteen minutes left until the funeral.

A faint slam of the front door echoed in her ears like a haunting laughter.

Elizabeth felt tears threaten to leave her eyes, but there was no time for such folly. She'd imagined this would happen. Christian never wanted her to actually fight after all, he couldn't imagine his little sister firing a gun on the barricade in her pretty red dress. Wiping away the single tear which fell from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth went to her closet and opened it, pulling out a crate with clothes of a man pooling over the edge.

Among the nights she'd spent at either Combeferre or Courfeyrac's flat, pieces of their clothing slowly went missing. Whether it was a pair of black trousers Courfeyrac had misplaced, a white shirt taken from Combeferre's dresser on her way out, or the cap Gavroche gave to her as a gift for Christmas and black boots he stole from one of his street urchin friends; Elizabeth snuck them off with little worry, they wouldn't need them after all.

She tugged of her nightgown and began to bind her chest with a torn piece of bed sheet, flattening the swell of her breasts as if to appear to be a young male student, not a teenage girl. Dressing in the clothes from the crate and piling her hair under the cap, Elizabeth pushed up the window, and stepped out onto the fire escape.

In the distance, the clock tolled eight times. The scent of revolution fresh in the air.

The idea of dressing up as a boy had been her backup plan. She'd imagined Enjolras would allow her to fight for the republic and freedom from their king, but that wasn't expected. One of the only times Eponine spoke to her was to discuss the idea, she was planning to do so in order to make sure Marius would stay safe. Meanwhile, Elizabeth only wanted to fight for what had been planned for the past couple years.

Morning air bit at her skin. It was cold out that day.

A low hum echoed off the walls of every building in Paris it seemed, the chant of hope and liberty reminding Elizabeth the barricades would be built soon. The revolution was starting.

Something held Elizabeth back from hopping off the fire escape. She wanted to, truly. But there was the fear of dying in the back of her mind. What if it all wasn't worth it? She'd die for nothing. She'd fall for nothing. Maybe Enjolras was right to lock her in her room, keep her safe.

She jumped anyway.

* * *

There was a certain guilt Courfeyrac felt at the thought of Enjolras locking Elizabeth in her room. His friend must've forgotten about the fact there was a window which led out to the fire escape. But then again, Enjolras had said Elizabeth was still asleep when he left.

He went to their flat anyway.

The others were far beyond occupied, with the revolution and all. Everyone was fleeing to Rue de Villette. Surely, no one would notice Courfeyrac's disappearance for a couple minutes.

Courfeyrac kept a hand on his gun as he opened the door, heading up the stairs and unlocking the passage to the room he knew was Elizabeth's.

The room was perfectly tidy and small. Elizabeth nowhere insight. Her bed was unmade with her white nightgown carelessly thrown on the floor next to a crate. A crate that still had remnants of a man's clothes pouring over the edges.

No, no, no. She couldn't have.

It was then that Courfeyrac saw the open window leading out onto the fire escape, curtains fluttering in the light summer breeze.

He ran to the barricades as fast as he could without knocking anyone over in the process.

Elizabeth did what he knew she would do.

Furniture poured out the windows like rain, people shouting, Enjolras running to help Jehan bring all the guns into the Musain. He did his best to spot the long blonde tresses of a girl he loves.

"Good God, Courfeyrac," Combeferre said. He hadn't even noticed him. "You look so pale, what on earth happened?"

"Elizabeth. Have-have you seen her?"

The Guide looked at him with nothing but pure confusion. "No, I haven't. She's at the flat in her bedroom. Courfeyrac, wh-"

"She's not there. I went by earlier to check on her."

"You don't think she's here, do you?"

"Christ Combeferre, where else would she be!" Courfeyrac ran his hands through his hair.

His eyes searched the fury of students. She was here. She had to be.

"Her bedroom window was open, and do you know where that window leads? Out to the god damn fire escape!" Courfeyrac's voice cracked as he spoke, Combeferre searching through the crowd as well for her.

Combeferre grasped his friend's forearm, "Not a word of this to Enjolras. He'll have her head if he finds out."

"Not a word."

* * *

Elizabeth didn't reveal herself until dusk.

She remained hidden under the disguise of a young male student, staying as far as she could from her brother, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and most of the other amis. Eponine had been the only one who knew. But her Elizabeth weren't exactly the best of friends, so conversation was sparse between them during the day.

Just as dusk arrived, Elizabeth took notice at the stares she received from Combeferre and Courfeyrac. They'd lean close to one another and whisper harshly towards one another. Growing suspicious they were.

You see, as hard as she had tried, Elizabeth couldn't pull off acting -or looking- like a man. Earlier, when they faced an intruder, she squealed after firing a gun at an officer. Luckily, it was masked by the sound of guns firing and swords being unsheathed. Only Eponine had heard it. The elder girl sent the younger a disapproving glare and a shake of her head.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac began to proceed to where she was cleaning her gun.

But the distant pitter-patter march of the national guard stopped them short.

Everyone went to take their places, Combeferre and Courfeyrac returning to Enjolras' side. Elizabeth picked up her gun and stood next to Eponine, much to the street gamin's dismay.

"You might wanna redo your hair." Eponine murmured with every ounce of disdain possible. Looking down the scope of her gun, she rolled her eyes. "There are a few strands that fell out, it's obvious you aren't a man."

Elizabeth cleared her throat, "I'm sure no one will notice."

They stopped. As did the national guard.

"Who's there?!" One called.

Enjolras replied, "French Revolution!"

Then, the gun fire.

A guard was the first to shoot, Elizabeth the second. She was a terrible shot, the butt of the gun retaliating back into her shoulder, and it hurt too.

Within the one minute and thirty seconds it took Elizabeth to reload (normally it takes forty five seconds, but she was weaker than those around her), her cap inevitably fell off her head. She hadn't even noticed as Eponine had vanished and wasn't there to point it out. Supposedly, Elizabeth turned her head too fast at the sound of a scream, the cap flying off.

She repositioned her gun on a chair arm. Glancing down the scope, she aimed towards one of the guards climbing the barricade. Her finger inched to pull the trigger as the man progressed to Marius.

Preparing for the impact of her gun brought, Elizabeth closed one eye, the other keeping steady gaze on her target. He whipped his gun out of his belt in two seconds and that's when Elizabeth pulled the trigger.

The bullet had barely missed him, but nonetheless, it made the guard's head turn in Elizabeth's direction. It gave Marius the opportunity to shove him off the barricade. Instead he wielded a torch and swung it at the guard's head.

"Stand back!" He exclaimed. "Stand back or I'll blow the barricade!"

Elizabeth backed away from her spot.

And what she'd felt on the fire escape returned.

Her heart was beating faster, fingers shaking slightly. There was the uncertainty of whether or not her life would still exist in the next few seconds. Her final moments could be now, in a place where she wasn't supposed to be.

But it was over before it had even started. The national guard fled from the scene after Marius lowered the torch to a barrel of gunpowder, and Elizabeth wanted to flee as well.

Especially after her eyes met Enjolras'.

She hadn't realized how close she'd been standing to the barricade. When Enjolras removed the torch from Marius' grasp, he spun around only to have the light of the flame illuminate his poor sister's face.

Thrusting his arm out to pass the torch to a nearby student, Enjolras stormed over to her with a look in his eyes that was more than terrifying. Not a word passed between them.

Dragging her behind the Musain with a tight hold on her wrist, a frustrated gleam in the leader's eye. When they were out of sight and away from earshot of the other revolutionaries, he let go of her arm with such force she almost stumbled to the ground. A string of curses fell from his mouth. The last thing Enjolras wanted was his sister to be shooting rifles at the national guard, especially after the battle which had just occurred.

Enjolras looked furious in his sister's eyes, blond hair askew and facial expressions a mix between scornful and concerned. His red jacket had been unbuttoned along with his cravat, hanging loosely at his sides.

"Why did you leave the flat, Elizabeth?" He hissed, raking both hands through his hair. "I locked you in your room for a reason, I didn't want-"

"Oh, I don't give a damn about what you want!" Elizabeth clenched her fists at her sides. "I've been a part of this since the beginning, I have every right to be here just as you do!"

Enjolras' face practically turned red with rage. "You do understand the consequences of being here, don't you? God, you can't even use a gun the proper way. Elizabeth, you need to go back home right this instant."

"No!" She cried, "I don't need to do anything! I'm not as fragile as you think I am, my dear brother."

The elder gripped both of Elizabeth's shoulders, bending down slightly to somewhat match her eye level. His facial features softened, lips pressed together. Both of them had seemingly calmed a little, Elizabeth's brow no longer furrowed. "Elizabeth, please, I beg you, go home. I'd rather have you live then risk your life for the sake of Patria."

She chewed on her bottom, then answered. "But what about you Christian?" Her voice had grown quieter, softer. Those blue eyes glistened as a gentle rain began to drizzle from the clouds above.

A heavy silence settled between the two. Then, Enjolras spoke.

"You can stay," said he, "but, if at any time, I feel as if it isn't safe for you to be here, you must leave."

The younger nodded and pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek, no other words passed between them as Elizabeth left the back of the Musain.

* * *

 _Hey Guys!_

 _The next few parts of the oneshots are all going to be the whole barricade sequence and stuff like that, but after I'm done, I'm going to start writing a few Modern Day Amis! stories._

 _Also, thank you those who've reviewed and followed! I never really thought this story would get much attention, so this makes me really happy :)_

 _Until next time,_

 _Broadwaykid1832_


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